


Unexpected Visit

by fadedink



Series: Lazy Hazy Summer Daze [2]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's far too early for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Visit

**Author's Note:**

> [Lazy Hazy Summer Daze](http://idiosyncratic.livejournal.com/701573.html) #4 for [**azewewish**](http://azewewish.livejournal.com/profile) because it's all her fault. ;)

"The fuck..."

"Get dressed," Tom says, pushing past the open door, Matt right on his heels wearing a wide grin.

Leinart stares blearily at them for a few seconds, trying to figure out why they're at his door at...what time is it, anyway? "Seven friggin' o'clock in the morning?" he squawks as he manages to focus on the clock. "On a _Saturday_?"

"Tom's idea," Matt says as he makes himself comfortable on the sofa, one finger pointed towards the kitchen where Tom's disappeared (hopefully making Leinart some damn coffee or there's going to be blood and a lot of it).

"The fuck," Leinart repeats, head swinging from Matt to the door and back.

"Get dressed," Tom yells, his voice accompanied by running water (which strongly indicates coffee and Tom's survival for at least the next few minutes). "We need to get on the road!"

"Um," Leinart says, trying to figure out if he's awake or if this is some fucked dream (and if it is, he's never, _ever_ drinking that much tequila again). And speaking of tequila... "How is he awake?"

"Because he," Tom says, leaning against the door frame, "was smart enough to alternate his drinks with water. Unlike you two doofuses."

"Did he just --"

"He did," Matt breaks in, fingers flicking in a shooing motion. "Now go get dressed. We'll wake up Cole."

"Wait, wait, _wait_ , damn it," Leinart says, making a time-out gesture and giving Tom a sleepy glare. "Where are we going?"

"Not a clue," Matt cheerfully replies, that grin back in place (which reminds Leinart that _he_ did not contribute to the coffee that he can now smell percolating, so his survival is _not_ guaranteed).

"Um."

"Just get dressed," Tom says, with a soft laugh, seeming to take a little pity on Leinart's poor, befuddled, hungover brain. "We'll figure it out when we get there."

"Just so you know," Leinart grumbles, giving in because he's clearly _not_ getting back in his bed anytime soon, "that makes no sense."

"I know," Tom grins before vanishing back into the kitchen.

Leinart gives Matt a dirty look (mostly because fuck if he doesn't look almost as perky as Tom) and shakes his head. A road trip. At the asscrack of dawn on a Saturday. To God only knew where. How very _Tom_ of them.

Somehow, he's going to pay them back for this. Slowly. And painfully.


End file.
